


Patriam

by orphan_account



Series: Cavae Eques [4]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Gen, Hey look it’s some form of a plot showing up, Horror, Izuru but d e v o l v e d, Makoto gets big anger then remembers a thing and becomes edgier than Izuru, Might put the White Palace bit in, The Abyss strikes again, but don’t count on it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-10-31 21:44:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17857517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A pristine Soul, void of blemishesTainted, gone





	Patriam

 

The White Palace is swiftly left behind. What a damned place, that. A disgusting pristine dream filled with death traps for any who dare challenge it. He hopes none other need to enter that hell the Pale King orchestrated for his own idiotic attempt at protection from the higher powers that dictate this land’s life. He made soldiers derived from Void and let them roam freely, what was he expecting to happen?

 

But now, now it doesn’t matter. Now, Makoto holds it. Holds the two halves of the Wyrm’s essence. It glistens beautifully in his hands, Soul endlessly trickling off the stone’s carefully carved crevices. He assumes that the remnants of the Pale King’s soul is imbued in this. A last escape from the power that craved to consume him. If he made sure the Light couldn’t get to him, then he must not have thought about Void.

 

Light and Void are inescapable. If one can’t get you, the other can.

 

* * *

 

 The husks of forgotten Vessels crackle under him as he lands from the platforms above. The place, The Abyss drags at him once again, but stronger now. Different. One that drags at the Kingsoul’s constant thrum and a wish for something else. A want to change it and make it his own.

 

The ground under him shakes, and the natural instinct to break takes hold. He jumps up into the air, letting his Shade slam his body into the ground, with preparation of course. If he didn’t keep on his guard, he’d have likely been resting with the Siblings long ago.

 

As expected, he lands somewhere deeper. He had thought The Abyss couldn’t get any deeper, but all his assumptions end up proven wrong one way or another here. He spots a hole leading lower nearby. A quick glimpse down, and the sight sends his claw to his nail handle in a heartbeat.

 

Shapes of Siblings, endlessly dark silhouettes moving through the dark. The only light being the lone lumafly in his hand and the glowing whites of one of the creatures he calls kin. They perk up, moving through the air without a sound.

 

He slashes at it with ease, watching it coil away from his nail’s perfected edges. It curls its head into its body with unnatural finesse and forms a small ball of void, which shoots into the ground below. The sense of other Siblings makes him sigh internally before jumping in without hesitation. No point in putting off what he’s started. The journey back is boring and slow, and he doesn’t think another ride on the Stag will help his still-fresh frustration with a certain dream.

 

* * *

 

 Before long, he’s met with a large...something. It’s dark and smooth to the touch, but jumping up shows the insides of the orb. Large chunks of an ore not unlike the pale ore and arcane eggs he’s seen scattered across the darkest corners of Hallownest. What’s more interesting to him though, is the surface.

 

For the first time, he can see his reflection. Not of the Knight, but himself. Dressed in dull green and red sporting a ridiculous hairstyle that was likely the only thing that made him stick out in the crowds. The student that entered Hope’s Peak with a smile and made long forgotten memories with many friends and colleagues he saw die before him, and ones that he might not see again.

 

The reflection’s stare, its eyes, are empty. Devoid of anything that would show a sliver of humanity, of mercy. A child solider hollowed by tragedy and fighting sent to be the sacrificial lamb to a dead kingdom. Then, then.

 

It smiles. One cruel and filled with knives and so reminiscent of **_her_**.

 

His nail strikes without thought, then again, and again, and again. A repetitive action led against an unbreakable mirror. He hates seeing him. Seeing him and not what he is. Until after what feels like hours, an furious stab of pink energy that finally, _finally_ , results in a **crack** -

 

Their smile falls. His vision cuts to black.

 

* * *

 

He, _It_ _wakes up at the bottom of a hole. An abyss._

_Heads, bodies of Vessels-no, no, they’re Its kin. Its sibling’s shells hitting each other with terrible cracks that reverberate through Its skull._

_It looks up, sees a light brighter than Its kin’s eyes shining, but It’s up. Up far, farther than It’s home’s comforting blanket of numbing consciousness, a dear gift from their Parent._

_It looks back down. It doesn’t want to leave. It wants to rest, They can’t understand why They were given form and mind to roam. Why? Why?_

_But no, Its purpose, something else. To hurt. To avenge Its siblings that are discarded without care to litter its Parent’s body. This feeling, the first fire felt in the dark of Its body since Its essence’s rebirth with an old civilization, drives It up towards the source._

_It recalls something. A rule, close held by It and Its Siblings. Never leave the womb for long, or else they may not be able to enter the womb again._

_The way is formed by Its Parent, stone pieces materializing from nothingness and cushioning Its leaps. Swift dodges of the skulls make It focus, and It barely notices that It’s reached the peak of their home until It makes a leap met by a substance It’s never known, one not formed by Its Parent._

_It sees two beings, one that It recalls faintly recalls mingling their endless selves as one with once, but the other it cannot remember._

_The light beyond is blinding. Not soft like Its siblings eyes as they stole fleeting glimpses at each other’s precious delicate forms outside of their Parent’s many endless wombs. The being, a wyrm clothed in sharp white glances behind at the smaller one._

_The other, the one that once lurked with It, starts to walk towards the light. The other glances back and they both lock eyes. It glimpses Its Sibling inside, and feels a second fire spark to life._

_The fire that drives It to break, break the shell binding it and set it free and let them come back and be accepted before their fate is sealed._

_Orange light dashes the edges of its vision._

_Their forms flicker into ones taller, more intricate and not of this world. The king, tall and clothed in black and white while the other is clothed in white and a large horn on top. It feels itself flicker as well, similar yet different, recalling another life crossing with its own that pervades its last thoughts before Its Parent’s womb attempts to consume it once more. As It feels a change, large appendages forming behind It and bursting from Its back. As pain blooms along Its body for the first time in so so long._

_It,_ he, is Makoto Naegi. The Final Vessel.

 

* * *

 

He crawls out of the collapsed entrance to the hole, claws and wings pushing away the shells. He straightens up, a chill running through his body. The memory shakes him to his core. His life and the life here were forced together by something. Orange, maybe Infection? Light? No, something with mind and will. The thing that breathes disgusting bubbling life into the shells of dead bugs.

 

The Absolute Light. Radiance. **_Her_**.

 

Something draws his attention, or lack of that something. The thrum of Soul, the tug of Void, the craving to rest, they’re gone. Missing. As if they were ripped from him, tearing away the last sliver of his humanity with them. He glances to the Kingsoul. It’s gone, but he feels it, in his chest, his being. Soul held within bathed in and consumed by Void, reborn to replace the last remnants of his heart.

 

Siblings watch him from afar. Their eyes are gentle, cold and soft instead of blinding sharp ice they glared into him when they set out to break his shell to pieces. Even his own Shade, once keeping him on his guard in case of flaring up and cracking his shell apart against a Durandoo, has gone quiet. Not even quiet whines for a moment of reprieve to be heard.

 

Oh how strange it feels, to miss Its noise.

**Author's Note:**

> Gonna edit tags better later.


End file.
